“If you’re trying to gradually desensitize me, it won’t work,” he said, frowning a little, as several people staggered out of the building beside them. Two fell to the ground. Despite the snow and the frigid temperature, they found it uproariously funny, so funny, they couldn’t be bothered to regain their feet.
“One to go, then I’ll concede defeat, and call it quits for the night,” she comforted Erik, as they reached the end of the lot, and pulled back onto the road.
“I’m holding you to that,” he replied. “Other than coming up with the numbers to complete the guy’s license plate, I don’t know what we’d accomplish, anyway.”
“That would be nothing to sneeze at, though,” Amber reasoned. “At the very least, the police would have what they needed in order to find, and question the guy.”
“The guy would also have the benefit of the doubt working for him,” Erik countered. “Mike, at Granite Solutions, remembers a lot. He doesn’t remember it all. We don’t have the truck model, and we’re missing the license plate’s numbers. The guy can argue that we don’t have enough information to warrant an accusation.”
“What about a lineup?” Amber suggested. “Mike, and the other guy, could identify him.”
“Something tells me that arranging a lineup to identify a countertop bandit, isn’t a high priority for the Ocotillo police department.”
“When you put it that way,” she said, scowling a little. “Turn here.”
“We’re headed out of town. You realize that, right? You should, you live here.”
“Yes, Erik. Our last stop is outside the city limits.”
“We’re not stopping,” he reminded her. “How in the world do you know where all these bars are, anyway?”
“It pays to be observant,” she shrugged. “It saves time, if you already know where to find what you’re looking for.”
Erik tsked.
“I hope you’re as aware of where Ocotillo’s churches are located.”
“I am. Come with me to church tomorrow night, and I’ll prove it.”
“It’ll prove you know where one of them is,” he corrected her. “Unless you intend to take me to all of them. There’s not time in an hour, for that. I may not live here, but I do know how many there are.”
“Really? Why?” she wondered.
“If you knew you’d be spending the foreseeable future in a new place, wouldn’t you acquaint yourself with the churches there? Or maybe you’d be more concerned with finding the nearest bar, the furthest, and all those in between.”
Amber gasped, laughed, and punched his arm indignantly.
“You’re awful!” she declared, and he couldn’t help smiling.
“Sorry. I’m just teasing. I’m also accepting your invitation.”
“Okay… good,” she smiled.
“I don’t exactly belong in youth group, though,” he pointed out. Amber frowned.
“Isn’t that fortunate, because neither do I. If you persist in believing I’m still thirteen, I may scream.”
“Do that, and I’ll decide I overestimated by eleven years.”
“I’d think that was funny, if it was,” she retorted.
“I’d laugh, if I wasn’t sure you’d hit me again,” he replied, rubbing his arm.
“Consider yourself lucky, that I don’t have a bowl of mashed peas at my disposal,” she said, with a tilt of her chin.
“Hm. You scream when you don’t get your way, you hit, and you throw food. You’re not helping your case, any.”
A vehicle on the left signaled their desire to merge, and Erik slowed to allow it. As it pulled in front of them, the truck behind it tore by with a roar, and Amber grabbed Erik’s arm with a gasp of excitement.
“What?” he wondered, giving the white minivan another look.
“Not that, that!” she exclaimed, pointing to the other lane. “Follow that truck!”
The van braked abruptly, and Erik slammed on his, to avoid a collision.
“Never mind, it’s in our lane now,” Amber said, craning her neck to see around the minivan, and through its windows to the vehicle in front of it. “He pulled in front of them, it’s the guy who stole your counters! It’s his truck, anyway. It’s got to be! His blinker’s on, take this exit.”
“What, you saw the license plate? How?” Erik exclaimed, as he did as she said.
“I’m observant, of course. I was paying attention, instead of coming up with new ways to hurt your feelings.”
“Are you serious? I hurt your feelings? Amber, I’m sorry! If you’ve got the license number, I’m turning around.”
“I didn’t say you hurt my feelings. I said I wasn’t busy coming up with new ways to hurt yours. And no, I didn’t get it, but I saw the letters, and the truck fits the description.”
“So I didn’t hurt your feelings? Or I did. Or maybe you want to keep me in suspense.”
“That’s right. You might have a lot to make up for. You’ll never know. To be on the safe side, you should be excessively complimentary from now on. Turn here.”
“The hitch is in the way, it’s blocking the plate.”
“Then don’t lose him. But don’t get too close! We don’t want him to think he’s being followed. Don’t let him get too far ahead, either!”
“Yes, dear,” Erik said tolerantly.
Amber was thrown by ‘dear,’ and for a moment, forgot all about the truck they were tailing.
Civilization melted away, and the lights of the city faded behind. Up ahead loomed a long, low building. Neon lights filled its windows, advertising a staggering number of alcoholic beverages. Several vehicles sporadically dotted the parking lot in front. The truck turned in, and joined them.
“Hurry!” Amber said in excitement. “We’ve got to get a good look at this guy!”
“Why?” Erik frowned.
“So we can pick him out of a lineup!” she replied. “Go, get that space by the door!”
Erik sighed deeply, and did. He stopped himself short of saying she’d make some nice young man a fine slave-driver, someday. She probably wouldn’t consider that complimentary. Then again, she might.
“Talk to me,” she said, turning to look at him.
“Okay…”
“No, really talk to me! We’ve got to make this look real.”
“Make what look real?” he wondered.
“Well, it’s freezing out! Why else would we sit here?”
“Good point. Let’s go,” he said, and reached for the key in the ignition. She grabbed his arm.
“Come on, Erik, play along,” she wheedled. “Investigate with me! Just a little longer, and we’ll go.”
“Were your parents exhausted, the entire time you were growing up?” he asked.
“You’re hurting my feelings again,” she frowned.
“No, I’m pretending to have a conversation. And you’re saying I did hurt your feelings? Because I’m sorry, if I did.”
Amber squeezed his arm again, and they watched, as a heavily bundled guy passed by the SUV. As he opened the door of the cantina, loud music, talk, and shouts of laughter, filled the night. It latched behind him, and the peace and quiet was restored.
“All I could tell was that he had a dark coat, and he’s about five-eleven, like the guys at Granite Solutions said he was,” Amber said, her eyebrows knitting.
“I’m not sure it really matters, anyway,” Erik reasoned. “We’ll check out the license plate on the way out of the parking lot, and be satisfied with that.”
“Okay, fine. But I have to go to the bathroom first.”
Erik stared at her as if he had no idea what he was seeing.
“No.”
“Uh, yes,” she said a little indignantly. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“Amber Fields, you are not going in there,” he said firmly, in a voice that would rival her father’s.
“Really,” she said, giving him a hard look. “I hope you’re ready to fork over a kidney, if mine rupture.”
&
nbsp; “Sure, Amber. If your kidneys rupture, you can have one of mine.”
“What blood type are you?”
“It doesn’t make any difference, since we’re not going in there.”
“Yes, it does. I’m not taking a chance on my new kidney being rejected.”
“You are completely insufferable,” he stated.
“And I’ve really got to go,” she replied, and in the blink of an eye, she was out the door.
Chapter 10
ERIK snatched the keys out of the ignition, and shot after her. Amber had a head-start, and reached the door before he could reach her. She swung it open, as he caught her by the back of her coat.
“Amber!” he said sharply, raising his voice to be heard over the noise that rushed to greet them. “Get back in the vehicle, now!”
“Give me a minute,” she said loudly. She moved forward, and he lost his grip on her slippery jacket. He ripped off his glove, and caught her by the sleeve as he followed her inside.
Smoke hung heavy in the air, burning his lungs, stinging his eyes, and dimming the weak light provided by the inadequate fixtures that hung from the low ceiling. Several men were gathered around a pool table at the other end of the room. One took careful aim, then broke. Raucous shouts and laughter erupted, as one of the balls was pocketed.
Colorful bottles filled the wall behind the bar, where the beefy, heavily tattooed bartender swiftly concocted drinks for the waiting patrons. The waitress, as beefy and heavily tattooed as the bartender, distributed them efficiently to those who hovered around the pool table, the pinball machine, and the tables scattered throughout the long, narrow space.
Those nearest the door, gave the newcomers a speculative look.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Erik snapped, tightening his grip on her arm.
“Looking for the ladies’ room,” she said, giving the place, and the people, a glance. “Do you suppose it has one?”
“No. Let’s go,” he ordered firmly, forcing her toward the exit.
“That’s him, it’s got to be!” she said, digging in her heels. Erik briefly followed her gaze to the dark-haired guy who was in the process of removing his heavy jacket.
“I don’t care who it is, we’re going,” he said firmly. She turned and clutched the front of his coat.
“Erik, we’re already here,” she reasoned. “Do you have cash?”
“What? Why?” he snapped.
“Because you probably don’t want the name of a bar showing up on your bank statement.”
Erik looked disillusioned, and utterly disappointed in her.
“I am not buying you alcohol,” he said with finality. Amber gasped, and looked insulted.
“Not for me, for him!” she said in annoyance. “It’s perfectly legitimate, my cousin does it all the time.”
“Your cousin—What kind of cousin do you have, anyway?” he exclaimed in horror.
“The kind that’s a private investigator. He said alcohol’s better than truth serum.”
“Oh. Well. Fine then, but I’m not contributing to the delinquency of anyone. I don’t care who, why, or whatever.”
“Fine,” she sighed, with a roll of her eyes. “But it would be a whole lot easier if you cooperated.”
“Hey,” a guy said loudly, as he and another man rose from their seats. The table in front of them was littered with glasses and bottles, their eyes were unnaturally bright, and they did not look friendly. “Is this guy bothering you?”
“No,” Amber swiftly replied.
“No, I’m not bothering her,” Erik glared. He prayed, assessed the men, the location, the situation, considered his options, moved her beside him, and gave her a rebuking look. “Just wait until dad gets hold of you! I will make sure he knows all about this. You’ll be lucky if you ever leave the house again.”
The men gave Erik and Amber a measuring look, as they moved a step closer.
“Looks to me like you’re bothering her,” the first guy said.
“He isn’t,” Amber insisted.
“We’re leaving,” Erik said with authority, as he used his arm to shove her behind him.
“Go ahead,” the other man said, his eyes taunting. “But she stays.”
Erik would marvel later, over how little time it took to pray.
“I’m leaving,” Erik replied, his gaze steady. “She’s coming with me. You will go back to your seats, and stay there.”
The first man’s eyes flashed angrily.
“You walk out of here now, or get carted out!” he spat, and the other man nodded.
“She stays,” he snarled, and cracked his knuckles.
“I’m doing no such thing!” Amber snapped, using outrage to mask her fear. “Don’t even think of trying to stop us!”
The men ignored her. The first guy picked up a steak knife, as they took several more steps forward.
“You have no authority to touch either one of us,” Erik said firmly. “He who is in us is greater than he who is in the world, and… those who are for us are more than those who are against.”
He looked so certain, the men hesitated.
Several of the bar’s other patrons moved toward them purposefully, and Amber’s eyes widened.
The second guy followed her gaze over his shoulder.
The first guy lunged.
Erik caught the man’s wrist as the knife ripped through his coat, the sound of tearing masked by the loud music, shouts, and Amber’s scream. Erik felt a dull thud as it struck his side, and he wrenched hard, breaking the man’s hold before he could strike again. The knife fell to the floor, Erik slammed his elbow into the guy’s jaw as he drew back his arm, then rammed his fist into the guy’s face. The man fell hard.
Flooded with adrenaline, Erik prepared to take on the next assailant, but a quick glance assured him that the second man was no longer a threat. He was now slumped over in a chair, with two of the bar’s other patrons standing guard over him. He looked almost as beat-up as the first. A third man turned and gave Erik a look of concern.
“Are you alright, boss? And what are you doing here, anyway?” he wondered, as the bartender silenced the music. The relative quiet was almost deafening.
“I think I’m okay, and—Amber? Are you alright?” Erik asked, turning swiftly. She stood to one side, a canister of pepper spray aimed at his assailant, her eyes intense.
“Are you?” she replied sharply.
“Here, let’s just… put that down,” Erik said, freeing the canister from her grasp. The air quality was bad enough. Seasoning the cigarette smoke with pepper, wouldn’t be an improvement. He stuck it in his coat pocket, for safe keeping.
“I was afraid I’d hit you,” she said, her eyes widening as they latched onto the tear in his coat. “No, oh no!”
Erik would marvel later, over how quickly she could move when she was motivated. She had his coat unzipped and torn aside, before he knew what hit him. She frantically felt of his chest and side, searching for the knife wound that wasn’t there. She grabbed his t-shirt and tugged, and he grabbed her wrists.
“Okay, enough,” Erik said firmly, determined to spare himself further embarrassment. “If he got me, I’d be bleeding. I’m fine.”
Amber tried to speak, but her voice cracked as her blue eyes filled with tears. She threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek over and over. She missed a few times, but mostly she kissed his cheek.
So much for sparing himself embarrassment.
“She’s not my sister,” he said to the men, as he tucked her head under his chin and hugged her, pinning her arms in the process.
Paolo, the guy who called him boss, was amused by something. So were the two guys with him.
“Good,” was all Paolo said.
“Deputies are on their way,” the waitress informed them, giving the prostrate assailant a disgusted look.
“I thought he stabbed you, and it was all my fault,” Amber sobbed.
The waitress laughed shortly, though not wit
hout sympathy.
“There’s a reason the steak knives are kept dull.”
“Yeah, but what it did to your coat… how did he not get you?” one of the men wondered.
Erik risked letting go of Amber, so he could reach inside his coat. He smiled a little, as he took out the pocket-sized New Testament.
“I guess you could say I parried.”
“No way,” the guy said, looking at the Bible in wonder. He took it from Erik, then passed it around to all the others who were now gathered around them. Amber continued to sob as she clung to him.
“Thanks for stepping in,” Erik said, with a glance at his attacker’s cohort. The looks on the faces of the men who guarded the guy, promised if he tried to get up, they’d put him right back down. Another man kept watch over Erik’s unconscious assailant.
“No problem, I’m glad we were here, but… what are you doing here?” Paolo asked, his eyebrows knit in puzzlement. “This isn’t your kind of place, boss.”
“It’s my fault,” Amber choked. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Erik. So sorry.”
“Come on, let’s… sit down,” Erik said. “We may be here a while.”
He led her to a small group of chairs, and used his foot to move two of them side-by-side. He had a feeling she’d be on his lap, otherwise. Amber was determined not to let him go.
The rest of the guys in the cantina pulled up chairs, and joined them.
“What’s her fault?” Paolo persisted.
“I insisted on coming in here, so we could talk to him,” she said, letting go just long enough to point to the driver of the truck. He matched Mike’s description, anyway. It was probably him.
The guy looked surprised, and more than a little concerned. He looked at Erik in confusion.
“Why would you want to talk to me?” the man asked. He spoke with the same Portuguese accent as Paolo.
“I understand you picked up an order from Granite Solutions, yesterday. An order for Davison Construction,” Erik said.
“Yes, that’s right,” the man replied, no more enlightened. “I picked it up and delivered it, just as I was told to do.”
“Who is it that told you?” Erik wondered.
Disengaged (Terms of Engagement Book 3) Page 16